Hush Little Baby
by Hikari Takaishi
Summary: My version of a Ken and Osamu story. PG for sibling rivalry. Don't worry. It hasn't lost it's cute parts, or touching moments, but it's again... my version of what became of Osamu and Ken's relationship. It's my 80th fic...


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Hush Little Baby

"Hush little baby…"

A young newborn opened his dark blue eyes for only a second. He shut them tightly and rubbed them with his little hands.

"Don't say a word…"

Opening them again, he youth giggled happily before shielding his eyes with his hands again.

"Mama's gonna buy you…"

Once again, the blue eyes peeked through the gaps of his fingers… and immediately disappeared.

"A mocking bird…"

"Mama?" another young child entered the room with his arms behind his back. His eyes were blue, just like the infant, and his hair was messy and the same shade of his eyes. Thick-framed glasses were on his face. Light from the window reflected off of the eyewear and he looked down. "Mama?" he asked again.

"And if that mocking bird don't sing…"

"Mama!"

"Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring."

"Mom!"

"And if that diamond ring don't shine…"

The boy clenched his fist in jealousy and said loudly, "I bwoke my glasses, Mama!"

"Mama's gonna buy you a valen--" the woman cradling the baby glanced down at him. "Osamu! How could you do--" she blinked at him and realized his glasses were just fine. She rocked the baby and set him down in his crib. At once, Ken began to kick at the sides and tried to stand up. He stood, but only for a second. Giggling, he tried once more, only to fail again.

"I have to go to school now." He held up his action hero lunch box. "You didn't give me lunch."

"I'm sorry sweetie," she smiled and followed him out the bedroom. "I've just been so busy with little Ken, well… Maybe Daddy can take you to preschool?"

Osamu slightly frowned. "Daddy left. But I need lunch."

Just then, the baby started to cry and instantly, the mother rushed back into the room. Osamu stood with his right arm stretched out. The action hero lunch box dangled from his hand and he dropped it. No matter how important his needs were, Ken always stretched out and stole his audience away. 

"I don't know how to go to school," he frowned and ran to the door that led out. After tugging on the sleeve of his jacket for a minute, he finally managed to get it off the hook. It fell onto his head and he pulled it off in a childish rage. He had to stand on his toes to reach the doorknob, but he eventually opened the door and stepped outside. 

Once, when his father was angry with his mother, the door made a really loud sound and scared him. He wanted to make the same noise to scare his mother. Instead, his jacket sleeve got stuck between the door and the frame. His free hand reached for the knob but he was too short on this side of the door. The wind swept across his little body and made him shiver. There was no way he would walk around without his jacket on. 

He tried tugging on it; didn't help. He jumped up and down to reach the knob; failed. The youth then thought he could do magic and slip through the bottom of the door. His fingers got stuck. Tears swelled into his eyes when he realized there was no way he could get out of this situation. Kicking the door only made his fingers hurt and his arm started to refuse to circulate his blood. Even his fingers under the door began to tingle. 

"Mama," he whimpered. No answer. … … … "MAMA!!!"

Birds flew off the roofs of buildings around the apartments and finally the door opened. He yelped in pain as his fingers were released from under the door and his arm dropped to the side. Mrs. Ichijouji gasped and lifted the toddler into her arms.

"Osamu!" she scolded, more of surprise than anger. "What were you doing outside?"

He looked outside while tears rolled down his cheeks and he started to explain; "I wanted to go to school. But you were wif' Ken. Then Daddy left and said for me to ask you to take me. Then I asked you and you wouldn't listen. Then I told you I bwoke my glasses. Then you were go-wing to get my lunch. Then Ken cwied. Then you left. Then I got mad. Then I-then I--then I---… I just wanted to go to school, Mama! I'm sowy!"

The woman forced her lips into a smile and she laughed, embracing him gently. "Oh, Osamu… I'm so sorry this confused you so much. But no need to cry, honey."

Osamu wrapped his arms around his mother's neck and cried into his own arms. She rocked him gently and took him back into the bedroom. Setting him into his bed, she whispered to him that he can stay home from his school for the day. He watched as she then sat down beside Ken's crib and lifted him into her hands.

"You are my sunshine… my only sunshine," she sang sweetly while she raised the infant over her head and smiled. He returned with his own smile and kicked his feet happily. "You make me happy, when skies are gray." 

Osamu closed his eyes and pretended that his mother was singing to him instead of his brother. She always used to sing to him… now he can't even get enough time for his parents to walk him to school. Life would be better if he weren't Ken's brother. Better yet, life would be perfect if he was the only child. But he wasn't. Ken came around and ruined _everything._

"Osa', Osa', wake up. Time for wake up time… Osa', Osa'. Mama, he won't get up."

The blue-haired boy opened his eyes and blinked a few times to focus all the light. Two blue eyes stared into his and his nose came close to the other's. Osamu grinned and blew air out of his mouth. Ken in return fell back and giggled happily. 

"Why are you up?" the older Ichijouji asked, slipping out of bed. He stumbled to his desk and forced his glasses onto his head.

"Mama told me today was impor…" Ken paused. "Special."

"Oh yeah, you're going on your first day of kindergarten…" 

"Yeah!"

"Don't be so happy. It's the end of your childhood, you know. After this day, everything goes downhill. You get stuff called homework, grades, and the only fun things are recess and field trips. And that only happens a few times." Osamu pulled his shirt over his head and waited for his brother's response.

"… Nu'uh!" Ken blurted and jumped off the bed. "Mama said it's fun!"

"That's what they want you to think."

"…Nu'uh!" he repeated and followed Osamu out into the living room.

"Ask Dad!"

"…Daddy!" 

Osamu laughed as his baby brother made his way into his parent's bedroom. A few seconds later, Ken ran out and pushed on the backs of Osamu's knees. He laughed again and looked down. Ken gave him the trademarked Ichijouji-death-stare and crossed his arms. 

"Trust me," Osamu knelt down to his brother, "school is something beyond fun." He gestured to the shelves in the living room. They were filled with miniature trophies, rookie drawings, first report cards, and the greatest thing ever… the Junior Soccer Team's trophy. Ken had always loved the way that trophy shimmered in the light. Osamu inspired him to shoot for the best, don't let yourself falter under pressure. More pressure, more expectations, more awards. That's how he filled the living room with wondrous things.

No… Osamu filled the living room with jealousy. Because of Ken stealing his fame in the family when he was first born, Osamu pushed himself ahead by doing the thing he did best: show off. If you told him to win that trophy, he'd ask by how many goals. He would do anything to impress his parents and their friends. He would do things so well, that Ken himself began to realize how intelligent his brother was. And because of that… Ken was beginning to be pushed out of the picture. 

That's all Osamu wanted. He wanted to be back in the middle of all the attention. And he was doing it so well! But it was only the beginning; he was only in the third grade. There was so much he could do… it was just a matter of years before he reached the peak of perfection.

Ken, on the other hand, had no clue of his brother's greed of attention. He admired his brother so much, he went as far as trying to get glasses to look like him. It never occurred to him how much Osamu pushed him away.

In the middle of Ken's kindergarten year, the jealousy finally reached the point where he could understand the feeling. One day, he woke up to find Osamu still in bed, holding his stomach and crying uncontrollably. His mother was there beside him with a damp cloth in her hand, trying to calm him. 

"Mama?" Ken peeked over her shoulder. Osamu's face was pale and damp with sweat. He stumbled back and wondered what was going on. 

"Hush little 'Samu, don't say a word," Mrs. Ichijouji stroked her son's hair lovingly. "Mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird…"

"Mama?" Ken repeated, holding up his shoes. "Can you tie my shoes?"

"And if that mocking bird don't sing… What will happen, Osamu?"

"Are you going to buy me a diamond ring?"

"And if that diamond ring don't shine?"

"You'll buy me a valentine!" Osamu half-smiled then coughed into his hand. 

"Mama!" Ken yelled in his child voice.

She turned around with her finger to her lips. "Shush, Ken. You're brother has a headache. And when people have headaches, things need to be quiet and calm."

"Can you tie my shoes?" he asked.

"In a minute, Ken." 

Osamu turned onto his side and held his hand over his mouth.

"Oh, dear!" Mrs. Ichijouji stood up and dashed to get the wastebasket. She sat down and Ken heard some of the most strangest gagging noises. He frowned at how much attention Osamu was getting. Usually, his mother would be caring for him, not Osamu.

"Mama!" he tried again.

She turned again and shushed him. "Be quiet."

He waited a couple more seconds and then called again, "Mama! Will you pwease just tie my shoes!"

"Ken!" she nearly hissed while Osamu cringed at the yelling. "You go wait in the living room, Ken. I need to talk with you."

Ken shifted from foot to foot before dropping his shoes on the carpet. He then ran into the living room and jumped onto the couch, waiting for his mother. More gagging noises were heard and nobody came out of the room. After waiting a few more seconds, he grew impatient and walked to get his jacket. He tugged on it for a moment then pulled it over his shoulders. 

Opening the door, he then stepped out and looked at the snow falling. The door shut and he turned around. His jacket sleeve was stuck in-between the door and he realized that tugging couldn't help. Snow began to whirl past his round cheeks and his thin jacket wasn't keeping him warm anymore. Since he didn't have his shoes on, he wasn't tall enough to reach the doorknob and his toes were starting to get cold. 

"Mama!" Ken called. He kicked the door and then yelped because he hurt himself. Slipping himself out of his jacket he then began to jump up and down to reach the knob. When he did, he jiggled it and found out that it was locked. A sudden gust of wind made the little boy shiver. He pounded his fists against the door and cried out for his mother, but even outside he could hear the pain his brother was going through. He curled himself in front of the door and watched snow fall from the sky. 

Nearly twenty minutes later, the strange noises were gone and the sound of his mother walking down the hallway made him open his eyes. He heard a faint "Ken?" and then forced his hand to pound against the door. In a flash, the door opened and he was swept into his mother's warm embrace. Just as his brother did when he felt neglected, Ken began to cry and explain to his mother what had happened. It ended with his arms around her neck and him crying into his arms.

Later that night, it was Ken who was getting all the attention. From his minutes in the cold, he had caught a virus and began to get a fever. Osamu, who was feeling only a little better, watched from his bed while his father fed him soup and gave him his favorite blanket. Once his parents left, Osamu slipped out of bed and walked to his brother.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I just wanted to go to school," Ken answered, his voice sounding just like Osamu's, sick and exhausted.

Osamu smiled a little bit. "I did that once. You made Mom forget to pack my lunch and I tried to go to school without her."

"I'm sorry." Ken said, tired.

"Hey, you're a kid…" he whispered and watched his brother's eyes close. 

"I want you to sing to me…" Ken whimpered helplessly, "will you?"

Osamu turned to get their mother, then stopped. "You want _me_ to sing to you?"

"Pretty pwease?" 

Osamu climbed onto his brother's bed and looked down at him. "What song?"

"The pretty one that Mama sang to you."

"Okay…" the older Ichijouji looked up briefly to see his mother and father in the doorway. "Hush little Kenny, don't say a word. 'Samu's gonna buy you a mocking bird."

Ken closed his eyes again and set his head on the pillow, listening to the lullaby. Their parents smiled warmly and observed their two sons proudly.

"Um… And if that mocking bird don't sing," Osamu paused on the words and looked up at his mother. She was pointing to her ring. "'Samu's gonna buy you the… the coolest ring ever. And if that ring isn't so good… I'm gonna buy you anything else you want because you're the best brother ever."

Osamu yawned and curled up next to his brother. "And someday, I'll watch you graduate from kindergarten and you'll be so happy. Then you'll watch me go on into high school and graduate. Then I'll watch you graduate. It'll be so great. 'Cause I know we'll be at each other's graduations. It's like finding the prize in a Cracker Jack box… we get something from going through the hard stuff. 'Cause I know how much you hate Cracker Jacks. I hate 'em, too… And then… and then we'll…"

He never finished his sentence. Instead, he fell asleep beside his little brother. 

"Ken!" Osamu nearly ripped the door off of the hinges and glared down at his little brother. "What did I tell you about messing with my stuff!"

"I didn't do anything!" Ken flinched from the yelling and gulped at his lie. 

"Yeah right! I had this container filled! Now it's half empty!" Osamu threw the bottle of liquid down on the carpet and walked towards Ken. He picked up his schoolbook and held it up. "How would you like it if I took this without your permission, Ken? And how would you like it if I ripped out half of the pages!"

Ken cowered into the corner of the room and looked up at him. "I didn't meant to--I was just trying to figure out how you make the bubbles and I--"

"You spilt it in the kitchen and _I_ was blamed for it!" Osamu dropped the book and walked to his computer. "If I find out that you messed with anymore of my stuff, you'll be sorry!"

He was already sorry. "Osamu, I'm sorry… I just… I just… I just wanted to learn."

The little eight-year-old stood up and rubbed his eyes. Osamu turned in his seat and blinked.

"You could have asked first."

"I thought you would get mad…"

"I did get mad."

"See?"

"But only because you didn't ask."

Ken shifted from foot to foot. "Osamu? Can you teach me how to blow bubbles?"

The older boy went to pick up the bottle, then opened up his desk drawer. Inside were many pencils, papers, but most of all, straws. He took out two straws and a pair of scissors. 

"Okay," Osamu sat down in front of Ken and took a straw into his hands. He carefully cut one end into four slits and pulled them back. He then told Ken to do the same. Once he was done, he held it up to Osamu and grinned.

"Perfect," the glasses-wearing youth grinned and made his way onto the balcony. He opened the half-empty container and dunked the straw in. Stirring it gently, he told Ken that the rules for blowing bubbles were to have a straw, the 'special stuff', and to blow lightly. When he tried to show him how, his bubble popped before it left the straw.

Ken smiled brightly and dunked his own straw into the liquid. He brought it to his lips and tilted his head towards the sky. Even though his straw had uneven ends and his hands were shaking unsteadily, Ken blew the perfect bubble and it left the end of the straw. His eyes followed it in awe then he jerked his head to look at Osamu.

"You did it!" he grinned, "great job, Ken!"

"I did it… and I did it better than you!"

"Whoa, don't get too carried away," Osamu smirked. "It was a lucky first try. C'mon. Let's get back inside, it's cold."

"Hey, Mama!" Ken trotted up to his mother, pointing proudly at the sticker he got for spelling his spelling words correctly. "Look what I got!"

"I still can't believe how talented Osamu is!" the lady next to his mother exclaimed. "He helped me program my computer. It blew my mind!"

"He is quite the amazing boy, isn't he?" Mrs. Ichijouji beamed.

"Mama! I spelled my spelling words perfectly!" Ken tried again.

"He's the star pupil in his grade level, too," another friend of the family commented. "Though his soccer skills can get better…"

"Oh, bite your tongue! He's the greatest at everything!" the first said.

Mrs. Ichijouji blushed from her son's accomplishments and let go of Ken's little hand. He let it drop to his side and he listened to the three talk all about Osamu. The first few minutes, tears filled his eyes, but after that, it was pure jealousy. He was jealous that his brother had taken fame over him… again! He liked it better when his mother was holding him in her mind rather than his brother. He crossed his arms stubbornly and ripped the sticker off of his shirt, letting it drop to the ground.

It was then that Ken found every weakness of his brother and pushed himself to be better at them. He convinced his mother to let him begin playing soccer. His first day, he gave it his all. By the end of the week, he showed more improvement than his brother had. The youth already convinced his brother that he was better at blowing bubbles. And then he moved onto school. He forced himself to do the extra studies that set him ahead of the group. 

Osamu noticed his hard work and glared upon it. It was an official war now. He wasn't going to let his _little brother_ get ahead of him. The junior genius began to dislike his brother in the strangest ways. They no longer went outside to blow bubbles together; they no longer fell asleep beside each other. Sibling rivalry took itself to the next level. 

To their parents' eyes, they were the perfect brothers; never fighting, never arguing. But when they were out of sight, they separated like oil on water. It wasn't physical fight, it was verbal. The only time the brothers ever touched each other was when Osamu caught Ken with _his_ things. Even the simplest slap on the hand caused Ken great pain.

Ken began to realize that it was getting out of hand. He never wanted Osamu to throw hatred at him. And he never wanted to say those painful words he always thought. 

"Ken! No matter how hard I try to tell you, you don't listen!" Osamu slapped his brother's arm. It echoed like the last sound a whip would make.

Ken stood up and glared hard at his brother. "I don't have to listen to you! Or anybody! And you don't have to slap me so hard! I wish, I wish--"

"What do you wish?" he hissed, "do you wish to be just like me? So you can be the center of attention, _just like I am_? Do you wish that I would just disappear from existence so you can be the Ichijouji genius? Do you wish that, Ken!"

The youth clenched his little hands into fists and spat out the words harshly, "I wish you would just disappear!"

"Keep wishing! Maybe it'll happen!" Osamu yelled while his little brother grabbed his bubble fluid and his straw. 

Ken turned around childishly, his free hand clenching the doorknob. "If you died, I'd be happy. I wish you would disappear. I wish, I wish, I wish!" He slammed the door and ran down the hallway, ignoring his parents' worried looks. A child never knows the power of words…

The youngest Ichijouji ran down the streets of his town, heading towards what he thought was the most safest place… school. It was Saturday, so the afternoon sun shone down on an empty playground. He dashed his way to the slide and climbed the metal steps. Sitting on one of the top steps, he turned around and tore off the cap on the bottle. Ken carefully dunked his straw into the container and brought the straw to his lips. He brought it down when he saw four distant figures running to the soccer field. Curiously, he watched.

"You're brother is SO not better than mine!" a girl said to a short blond.

"Miss Preppy." One of the older kids chuckled and lifted the girl into his arms. "Are you going to be saying 'like whatever!' now?"

"What? Taichi, what ARE you talking about?"

"She's growing an attitude," the tall blond commented.

She grinned proudly, "It's all a part of growing up."

"Yamato, tell Hikari that you are so better than Taichi!" the short blond huffed.

Taichi nearly fell over. "Oh, come on! You'll see! Every year at summer camp, we have those contests…"

"And every year you lose."

"Shut up, Yamato!" he wailed.

Hikari giggled, "Takeru, have you been to summer camp?"

"No." He sounded disappointed. "But I'm going this year! Matt says it's a blast!"

"Really!" the girl beamed. "Tai, we'll win some of those contests this year, won't we?"

The Yagami ego inflated within the brunette's mind. "Of course!"

Takeru latched himself onto Yamato's back. "I don't care what happens, 'cause no matter what, Yamato's going to be there and he's the best brother ever."

"Not even! Taichi is the best brother any younger sibling can have." Hikari also latched herself to Taichi's back and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Let's go get some ice cream!"

"Yeah!" Takeru agreed.

"Fine, last one there pays for the loser." Taichi took off in a sprint with his little sister on his back.

"Cheater!" Yamato called after him and followed his steps.

Ken sat on the slide, the straw held tightly between his fingers. If he could've, he would've joined right with those two and say how much of a brother Osamu is. Only… he didn't know how well Osamu can be a big brother… As far as he could remember, they've only fought. Suddenly, he wished that he could say that his brother was the best brother ever. 

"I'm sorry, 'Samu," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

He dropped the bottle of bubble liquid and hurried off the slide. If he ever wanted to say that Osamu was the best brother ever, he had to become his brother all over again. And to do that, he had to apologize.

Ken rehearsed his lines in his mind while he was running home. He was going to apologize and Osamu was going to forgive him. Then he would promise never to say those evil words again and Osamu would promise not to slap his hands anymore. Everything would be back to normal! They would then be brothers and Ken could brag about how his brother is a genius and how he is the best brother ever….

He turned a corner and saw him… He saw Osamu walking towards the school grounds. Which meant that he must have been looking for his little brother! Ken smiled widely and began to run again. Stopping at the corner of the road, he looked both ways before crossing. When he looked to the right, towards Osamu, he saw a vehicle approaching, so he waited.

"Ken!" Osamu waved, apparently not aware of the car. "Hey! I want to talk to you."

He started to step off the sidewalk and Ken's eyes widened. "Osamu!"

A child never knows the power of words…

Ken sat on the balcony with his feet dangling off the side of it. The sun was beginning to set, streaking the sky with violet, red, and orange. His eyes were staring off into space, literally. He watched the stars twinkle and he looked for a shooting star. Maybe he could wish his brother back… Thoughts filled his mind and clouded any others. Tears filled his eyes, but he couldn't force them out. It had been the day of Osamu's funeral… the longest day Ken ever lived. 

_"Hush little Kenny, don't say a word. 'Samu's gonna buy you a mocking bird. Um… And if that mocking bird don't sing, 'Samu's gonna buy you the… the coolest ring ever. And if that ring isn't so good… I'm gonna buy you anything else you want because you're the best brother ever."_

Ken took out the little container of bubble solution and dunked his straw. He blew a few bubbles before his sight was blurred by the tears. The young boy pushed the container off the side of the balcony and rubbed his eyes. 

"Hush O-samu, don't say a word," Ken murmured to his chest, "Ken is gonna buy you a mocking bird. And if that mocking bird don't sing, I'll buy you anything. Because _you_ are the _best_ brother ever. I'm sorry I didn't find that out. Osamu, please don't hate me forever."

Ken's feet dangled and his hands gripped onto the bars. "I didn't mean those words I said. And if I could take it back, I would. I would, I would, I would, and I would twice as hard. I didn't mean to, Osamu…"

He clenched his eyes shut and tried to cry silently. But he couldn't remain so quiet. His breath escaped him in gasps and he was muttering parts of the lullaby that brought him so much pain. The little boy was crying so loudly that he didn't pay attention to the opening of the door. He snapped his head up, half-expecting to see Osamu, half-expecting more pain when he found out it wasn't.

It was his mother.

She lifted him into her arms and he wrapped his arms around her neck, crying into his own arms, just as he did when he was younger. And just as Osamu had done. When he was placed into his bed, his tears pelted the pillowcase and his body shook underneath the covers. 

"Mama, I-I-I'm sorry," Ken forced out the words.

"Sh," she whispered, stroking her son's forehead, clearing it from his childish blue hair. Her eyes were filled with tears, but her voice was still calm. "It wasn't your fault this happened. It's never anyone's fault." 

Ken clenched his eyes shut. _If you died, I'd be happy. I wish you would disappear. _"I'm sorry…"

"Hush little baby--"

His tear-filled eyes widened and he pressed his hand against his mother's lips. "Please, Mama… Don't sing that song. …Please."

::blinks:: Riiight. Be a responsible reader and review please. ^-~ Tally-ho! Onto more stories I go! ::falls over anime-style for the seventeenth time today. (Today being March 11, 2001.)::


End file.
